


What We Almost Had

by XILVerify



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Episode 70 spoilers, Gen, Missing Scene, because Allura and Tiberius just... they hurt me man, the lost potential in their storyline because of what happened with Tiberius physically pains me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 05:22:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9369842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XILVerify/pseuds/XILVerify
Summary: Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: “It might have been.” ― John Greenleaf WhittierAllura misses Tiberius. Spoilers through episode 70.





	

**Two weeks after the Chroma Conclave attack on Emon…**

“Pike,” Allura says one day, pulling aside the small cleric after a meeting with the leaders of Whitestone. “Do you have a moment? There’s… something I’ve been meaning to ask you all - Vox Machina, I mean - but I could never find the time.”  
  
“Of course,” Pike replies, looking up at the arcanist quizzically. “What’s on your mind, Allura?”

Allura worries at her bottom lip for a moment. “Tiberius,” she says slowly, not missing the way Pike’s face falls. “I haven’t seen him with you all for some time. Is… is he alright? Did something happen?”

“You mean no one told you?” Allura’s stomach twists, and something in her expression must have alarmed Pike, because she hastens to add, “I mean, he’s fine! As far as I know, anyway. He just… he left Emon a couple days before the dragons attacked. Which, on second thought, explains why no one probably told you.” She smiles apologetically, and the ball of anxiety in Allura’s midsection dissipates somewhat.

“He said… there were certain things he had to take care of, and he couldn’t stay with us anymore, at least for now. But he did leave a message for you specifically, Allura! Well, he told Keyleth to tell you, but I don’t think she’ll mind if I do it for her, so-”

“What did he say, Pike?” Allura gently cuts off the gnome’s rambling with an amused, relieved laugh.

“Oh right,” Pike flushes, and then squints, obviously trying to recall the exact words. “He said to tell you that… he’s sorry. And that you’re always welcome to visit him in Draconia.”

One corner of Allura’s mouth lifts briefly, a painful, bittersweet ache taking up residence behind her breastbone. “Thank you, Pike.”

“No problem. Are you… okay?” Pike replies, reaching up to lightly touch Allura’s hand in concern.

“Oh, of course, darling,” Allura quickly puts on a smile for Pike’s benefit. “Just… a lot’s been on my mind lately, that’s all. Let’s go join the others, why don’t we.”

“Okay.” As the two women start to exit the room, Pike speaks up again. “You know… after this is all over, we’ll probably make our way up to Draconia to visit him eventually. You could come with us, if you’re feeling up to it. I know he’d really like to see you.” Allura doesn’t say anything for a long moment, considering the metaphorical olive branch that’s been presented to her.

“We’ll see, Pike,” she finally says, shoving unwanted, complicated thoughts and feelings to the back of her mind where they belong. She’ll sort them out later, if they all live long enough to see the dragons felled. The middle of a war is no place for such distractions.  

-0-0-

**Now…**

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but… Tiberius fell.” Allura stares uncomprehendingly at the small bard for a long moment before the words finally register. Then, for the briefest instant, she thinks Scanlan is joking. He’s always making quips, pulling pranks, surely someone will speak up any second now and berate him for his bad taste in humor.  But there is no spark of laugher in Scanlan’s eyes now. No one else speaks. Out of the corner of her eye, Allura sees Vex’ahlia cover her face with one hand, and it finally sinks in.

Around the sudden obstruction in her throat, Allura forces out platitudes that sound hollow even to her, and leaves the room as soon as she’s able, pausing only to ruffle Kima’s hair out of habit as she passes the halfling. Kima oddly doesn’t huffily protest the familiar gesture as she usually does, only giving Allura a slightly worried look before she resumes speaking to Vox Machina. Allura doesn’t bother to even try to comprehend their words as she departs.

The arcanist walks numbly through the castle and toward Gilmore’s place, everything around her seeming unreal and dreamlike as questions she has no answers to flood her mind. How had it happened? When? Had it been quick? Had he suffered?

She’s lost people before, of course, to battle, to sickness, to the ravages of time, but it never gets any easier to bear, never hurts any less. But she can’t think about it. Not now. She has a job to do, a duty to perform, she cannot, will not be selfish. She meets up with Gilmore to complete their daily ritual to maintain the shield surrounding Whitestone, and he instantly picks up on her mood as they begin to pour more of their magic into the barrier.

“Are you alright, my dear?” he asks in concern when they finish, sweat dotting both their brows from the taxing spell. She balks at his question. Has Vox Machina told him? And if they haven’t, is it even her place to do so? Tiberius was his friend as well, after all. After a short but terrifying moment of indecision, she decides that no, she will not say anything. The poor man is under so much strain already, and she will not add to his current burdens by either giving him another one he must carry or reopening old wounds. Allura mutters some excuse about the weather and the barrier and the dragons, and while Gilmore doesn’t look completely convinced, he urges her to go home for the day and get some rest.  

The woman’s feet automatically carry her to the little house she shares with Kima a few blocks from the castle, a far cry from her old ivory tower, but in times such as this, one can’t be picky. She mechanically pours herself a cup of tea from the kettle keeping warm on the back of the stove and walks into her room, closing the door behind her and sitting down at the small table by the window. She cradles the cup with both hands, staring dully out the window and feeling the warmth seep into her cold fingers. The steam rising from the liquid fills her nose with the familiar, calming scent of mint.

_“What flavor of tea do you like?”_

_“I prefer mint or jasmine, to be honest.”_

A salty tear falls into the tea just as the hastily-constructed walls around her emotions finally crack and the pain hits, a stab of acute agony lancing straight through her heart. A soft sob tears itself from her throat as the memories and feelings she’s been suppressing for months finally come spilling forth.

She remembers how smart Tiberius had been, how he knew the ins-and-outs of the arcane arts more intimately than many magic-wielders twice his age, but also how eager and willing he was to learn and discover new things. She remembers his fierce loyalty and love for his friends, the way he’d put every ounce of willpower he possessed into defending them in battle. She remembers the way he’d awkwardly bluster and trip over his words when trying to speak to her, the way he’d blush and smile and try not to show how pleased he was when she complimented him, the way he’d simply gaze at her as if she were the most wondrous, beautiful thing he’d ever beheld in his life when he thought she wasn’t looking.

The tears fall faster down Allura’s cheeks, and she makes no move to wipe them away. She’d known full well that he liked her. _Liked_ liked her, as the girls in her old magic school would have said while hiding their giggles behind their textbooks. She would have had to be blind to have missed it. Tiberius Stormwind was a lot of things, but subtle wasn’t one of them. And she’d… she’d liked him, too. It was almost impossible not to.

She doesn’t know if what she’d felt towards him had been love, exactly. It certainly was a far cry from the awkward but endearing crush he had on her. But for the first time in a long while, she’d finally been willing to see if one of her friendships could possibly become something more. And then that awful night with the Briarwoods happened… that old woman…

It had shaken her, shaken her so badly, that someone she respected and – yes, she would admit it – liked so much could do… something like that. And he hadn’t even been sorry afterward when she questioned him about it, either. He’d brushed it off, acted like it was nothing. At the time, she had been too hurt and confused to consider how it might have looked from his perspective, seeing a downed, dangerous foe in the heat of battle and only seeing a potential threat to the safety of his loved ones. He might have acted rashly, she might still not agree with his choice, but he had only been trying to protect his family. Even at his worst, Tiberius was not one to simply kill for killing’s sake. And if what Pike had told her was true, he had come to genuinely regret his decision, and had left the door open for them to repair their relationship, if that was what Allura wanted.

And she did. She knows that now. She misses talking with him about the arcane arts, swapping silly stories about magical mishaps, comparing notes and theories. If she had the opportunity to get that easy camaraderie back, she would take it in a heartbeat. Her last words to him had been so condemnatory and harsh… and now he’s gone, and she’ll never get the chance to make things right between them, never get the chance to see what they could have been together.

And as Allura sits there by the window, the tea going cold in her hands, silently mourning her fallen friend… that’s what hurts the most.

**Author's Note:**

> Because regardless of one’s shipping preferences, it can’t be denied that Tiberius and Allura were canonically very important to each other, and she deserves some time to herself to grieve him and find closure without having her moment of mourning turned into the punchline of a joke or swept under the rug entirely.


End file.
